She wanted to believe him.God, she wanted to.But as another section of the building collapsed inward with a sickening groan, Chloe couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t an accident.That fire wasn’t just destruction.
It was a message that was somehow terrifyingly aimed straight at her.
#
Kayne didn’t believein coincidences, which was unfortunate, because he was currently standing in the chill-damp aftermath of a burned-out house, breathing in smoke that hadn’t quite settled, while Chloe leaned into his side, her body subconsciously deciding he was home base.
The call had come too early.Those calls always did.The fire was a total loss.Sandy and her husband were possibly inside.
Chloe hadn’t cried.Not yet.She looked hollowed out instead, eyes fixed on the wreckage.Kayne watched firefighters move through the rubble with methodical efficiency, steam hissing where water met heat and curling up from charred beams.The top floors where Sandy and her husband had lived were gone.Just gone.As if the fire had been personal.Hungry.
Kayne shifted slightly, angling his body so Chloe was shielded from the worst of the view.He didn’t want her cataloging details the way he was.The burn pattern, the way the windows had blown outward, the unmistakable feel of accelerant lingering beneath the smoke.
He’d seen this kind of destruction before, and not from fires that started by accident, but ones that were fed and encouraged to take exactly what someone wanted gone.
He leaned down.“Cher, this wasn’t about you.”
She looked up, eyes glassy but focused.
“This wasn’t about you,” he repeated gently, every word chosen with care.“Sandy ran a big operation.Servers, data, contracts.Could’ve been electrical.It was an old house.Could’ve been—”
“An accident?”Chloe finished quietly.
He forced himself to nod.“Yeah.”
The lie tasted like ash because his mind was already sifting through darker possibilities.Was there a chain link in there?If so, it’d be gone now, melted and reduced to nothing but memory and motive.
Chloe exhaled shakily and pressed her forehead briefly to his neck.“They were good people, Kayne.Sandy helped me when I didn’t even know I needed it.”
“I know,” he murmured, resting his chin lightly against her head.“I know.”
Behind them, Evan stood with the rest of the shell-shocked, hollow-eyed web team, but Kayne noticed something the others didn’t.
Evan wasn’t watching the fire.He was watching Chloe.Closely.Steadily.Kayne clocked the way Evan hovered just outside her space, the way his shoulders angled toward her without him realizing it, until he noticed exactly where she was.Kayne’s arms were around her protectively, tucking her against his side.
That was when Evan’s jaw tightened.His gaze flicked to Kayne’s hands at her back, lingered a beat too long, then snapped away as if the sight had scorched him.Something feral sparked behind his eyes.It was possessive and resentful and unmistakably jealous.
Shock did strange things to people, but this felt focused.
Grief could fixate.Fear could cling.But this had the bitter edge of wanting what someone else was holding and not knowing how to ask for it back.
Anja and Leo conferred a few steps away, voices low.Kayne felt the familiar itch between his shoulder blades, the one that meant the danger hadn’t passed.It had just changed shape.
Evan stepped up beside Chloe, his hair windblown and face drawn tight with shock.He looked younger like this, stripped of control or answers.
“Chloe,” he said quietly.“I-I don’t know what we’re going to do.”
She turned to him, blinking as if she’d forgotten other people existed.“What do you mean?”
“The servers,” Evan said, gesturing helplessly toward the smoking remains.“All of them were on-site, in the basement.Backups, the whole system, everything was housed here.It’s all gone.We can rebuild, obviously, but the site with your content, the subscriber backend ...”He swallowed.“This is catastrophic.”
Kayne felt her tense, just slightly, and resisted the urge to pull her tighter.Evan’s gaze never left her face.Kayne had the feeling the man was bracing for her to fall apart.
She didn’t.
Chloe stared at the ruins for a long moment, then squared her shoulders.“That’s the least of my worries,” she said, voice steady but stripped bare.“We’ll figure it out.We always do.”
Evan’s throat worked.Whatever he’d expected, whether it was panic, tears, or reassurance, it wasn’t this quiet resolve.“Okay,” he said finally.“Okay.We’ll make a plan.”
